


Bathtub Revelations

by Dragongoddess13



Series: Tattoo [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Magical Tattoos, Tattoos, prefects bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 23:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15673818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragongoddess13/pseuds/Dragongoddess13
Summary: “Is that a tattoo?”





	Bathtub Revelations

Bathtub Revelations 

Hermione/Draco

xXx

“Is that a tattoo?” Draco flinched as the young woman before him let out a screech, ducking beneath the water of the bathing pool. 

“What are you doing?” Hermione exclaimed, head and shoulders above the water, the bath water murky with large mountains of bubbles. 

“Apparently, learning something very interesting about everyone’s favorite little swot.” Draco replied gleefully, a hint of mischief in his smirk. Hermione glared. 

“Get out Malfoy.” she spat. 

“And miss this opportunity? I don’t think so Granger.” 

He shouldn’t be testing the limits of her patients, of that much he was certain. He knew very well how dangerous she could be if the need arose and he wasn’t too keen on seeing it first hand ever again. Getting punched in the face third year was bad enough, he didn’t want to see what she could do with her considerable magical skill. 

And yet, here he was, refusing to leave. There was no reason for him to stay, at least not since he’d outed himself with his little outburst. He’d walked into the Girl’s prefect bathroom, the boys’ bathroom having been closed due to a Weasley Twin Prank, with the intention of taking a bath himself, certain that no one else would be up at this late hour, only to find Hermione Granger already there. He was not proud to admit he may have stood in the shadows for a bit to watch but the minute she rose from the water he intended to leave. His retreat was cut short, however, when he noticed the navy blue ink sparkling across the skin of her hip and thigh. 

“Was that an otter?” Stepping closer to the bath’s edge. She blushed the prettiest pink he’d ever seen, all the way down to the edge of the water where it covered her breasts. 

“It’s my patronus.” She replied softly, almost nervously. 

Draco froze. “You can conjure a corporeal Patronus?” He asked surprised, then before she could answer he muttered; “of course you can.” Like it was obvious. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Hermione muttered as she slid a little further under the water in embarrassment. Which was laughable if Draco were honest. She was a prefect, well on her way to becoming head girl next year. He should know, he was the one trailing behind her, close on her heels in every subject. She had no reason to be embarrassed by her own skill 

“Does The Weasel know you have a tattoo?” He questioned and the flush grew darker as she refused to look at him. 

And then Draco remembered dinner that night and breakfast that morning, how she had sat with Ginny and Luna at the Ravenclaw table. He remembered their classes too, the ones they had together, she had sat as far from Weasley and Potter as possible.  

Now that he thought about it, all of that had happened right after her date with Weasley in Hogsmeade over the weekend. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He said stepping a little closer. 

Hermione grimaced. “Must you?” She asked moving back against the far edge of the tub. 

“Not if you don’t want me to, no. It’ll only make me more curious though.” 

She sighed. “Fine, lets get it over with then.” 

Draco walked up the steps and took a seat on the edge of the bath. “How was your first date with The Weasel on Saturday?” 

Hermione looked up at him. She was surprised, clearly expecting something else entirely. Eventually she shrugged. “It was alright.” 

“Just alright? You’ve been dancing around each other for years, surely it was more than alright.” It took serious will power not to smirk at her. He wasn’t trying to rile her up, at least not entirely, he wanted real answers. He wanted to know what was going on between them. It had been a point of contention for years; her little crush on the youngest Weasley boy. He wasn’t exactly sure when he had developed his own feelings for her, but at some point he realized (was blatantly told by Blaise, Theo and his godfather Regulus) his distaste for their tenuous relationship was because he felt something for the Gryffindor Princess. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing. “What do you want me to say? It was okay. What more is there?” 

“Well, there’s spectacular, there’s wonderful, there’s earth shattering. Did he sweep you off your feet? Did he take your breath away?” 

“Why does that matter? Why does any of this matter to you?” she snapped, frustrated. 

Draco hesitated, shrugging.  “Because, you deserve better.”  he looked away, refusing to meet her eye. “You deserve to be swept off your feet.” 

“And you don’t think Ron is capable of that?” Hermione asked, genuinely curious. 

Draco finally looked at her. She’d moved a bit closer, peering up at him with that curious innocence that made her eyes sparkle. “Look,” he continued. “I know that Weasley and I don’t get along, but I’m saying this with only the slightest of bias. No, I don’t think he is. At least not right now. Maybe in the future, with a bit of experience and some internal contemplation, but right now he’s just not mature enough for you.” 

“You think I need to be with someone more mature?”

“Absolutely. I mean, look at you and Viktor Krum. He was older, more mature, more comfortable in his own skin. And you were so happy that year. There wasn’t any awkwardness after the ball, you just sort of fell in together.” 

“You’ve certainly given this some thought.” she spoke up when he was finished. “And do you have someone in mind for me, or were you just speaking your mind?” 

Draco looked away again, but then he realized in doing so he failed to present the image he had painted for her. So he took a deep breath, dug for his inner Gryffindor courage and turned to face her again. 

“Me” he said quickly, hoping he was coming off confident. 

“Is that right?” she asked. 

“Indeed.” he replied simply the slightest smirk tilting his lips. 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and it was Hermione who broke the spell, gliding through the water toward him. When she reached the edge, she propped her arms up against the side. 

“The truth is, Draco, I’ve had feelings for Ron for so long that I just got used to them. So used to them that I didn’t notice when they started to wain. So when he finally asked me out I said yes and chalked the butterflies up to nerves. But I think the truth is that I wasn’t excited for our date, I was dreading it, because deep down I knew it wouldn’t live up to what I had imagined for years.” she explained. “So, with that in mind, if you think you can wow me, I’ll give you a chance. But just a fair warning, after all of this, my expectations are pretty high.” 

Draco grinned. “I assure you, Hermione, you’ll be asking yourself why you ever gave another man the time of day.”

Hermione laughed, the pleasant sound echoing off the walls around him. “Your confidence is admirable, but we’ll see.” she smirked. “Now, was there a reason you came in here or were you just here to peep?”

“I came for a bath, the boys bathroom is closed, I didn’t think anyone would be in here.” Draco explained a lecherous smirk crossing his face. “Of course, it would be rude of me to expect you to leave, so how about we share?” he suggested. 

Hermione laughed. “I have a better idea. Since I’m finished, you can have the bath.” she told him and before the image of her stepping out of the water could even cross his mind, she reached up and grabbed his arm, over balancing him on the edge and pulling him into the water. Draco struggled to right himself, splashing violently as he broke the surface. He spluttered out her name in outrage only to find her standing on the stairs a towel wrapped around her, the side open just enough for her tattoo to peak out, literally. The little otter looked to be peaking around the edge of the towel at him. 

“Good night, Draco.” she called, wiggling her fingers at him. As she turned away, he caught movement from the ink on her hip and gaped. 

“Did your tattoo just wave at me?” he called after her, his question met with more laughter as the bathroom door closed behind her.    



End file.
